It was an icy trip back from Zanesville last night, but when we woke up this morning, it was Ice Station Whipple. I tried to make it out to the blacktop road to make my regular Sunday jazz gig and ended up sideways in a low dip on Township Road 92. Half an hour later, I walked up the driveway, holding on to saplings, slippity-sliding every step. The van is staying right where it is until the temp rises above 32 and the ice melts. So we're holed up, watching the ice build up, putting out more food for the birds, and hoping that the power stays on through the night.
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